


winter

by marvels_agents100



Series: the keeper of horae [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25143823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvels_agents100/pseuds/marvels_agents100
Summary: seasons change, but he never does
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Series: the keeper of horae [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821433
Kudos: 26





	winter

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first hotch fic i’ve ever posted, i hope you enjoy ! ugh i am so soft for this man :)

The heavy coat resting on your shoulders did little to fight off the winter cold. Your arms tightened around you, a stuttered exhale leaving your lips in a cloud of frost. White flecks of snow cascaded from the sky, flickering in the glow of the yellow street lights. Their twinkle matched the soft way they landed gracefully upon the ground, sinking into the snow already residing there. Another chill lingered in your spine, but the grin that pulled at your lips never left your face. The snow made you happy- being slightly frozen was a small price to pay. 

His footsteps grew louder as he approached you, his warmth- that seemed to radiate off of him- reaching you before he did. Feet stopping beside yours, his chin tilted upwards, eyes squinting against the unrelenting descent of snowflakes. This made you smile more- just an effect he had on you- and you curled into yourself further.

“Aren’t you cold out here?” He asked, his warm, dark voice humming in the cold air.

“Definitely,” you answered softly, looking up towards him, “but I couldn’t miss the snow.”

He met your gaze, letting a small chuckle slip past his lips, “It will snow again, you know.”

He looked away then, and so did you. You found yourself looking upwards, just as he did, before answering him once more.

“I take these moments while they happen,” your voice was nearly a whisper, “we see too much of an ugly world to not marvel in the beauty it naturally holds.”

He didn’t answer you then, but put his hands into his pockets and kept his stance beside you. In your eyes, that meant he agreed. 

Yet again, you shivered, despite the many layers that were covering your body. His hands left his pockets immediately, unwinding his burgundy scarf from his neck. You couldn’t conceal your quiet gasp as the wine colored fabric landed upon your neck, his gentle hands wrapping it around you in an attempt to fight the frigid air.

You looked up at him again, finding his eyes and hoping the red that painted your cheeks originated from the cold, not the butterflies that inhabited your stomach.

“Thank you,” you let out, your already quiet voice muffled by the scarf that was now around your neck. Your gaze never left him, his hands returning to his pockets silently, eyes closing as his chin tilted upwards once again.

The moon casts it’s light upon his cheeks, his dark eyelashes leaving shadows in their wake. The scarce, silver hairs lining his temples seemed to grasp onto the soft light as well. His face- for the first time in a while- was relaxed, content, unbothered, save for the reddening of the very end of his nose.

You shamelessly admired him; you admired how the man beside you took the dark and dreary in, how he felt the pain of others and carried it upon his back, how he kept himself gathered despite the pain that originated within him. He took the unrelenting, dangerous cold of winter, and gave back the lights that were hung for holidays, the rosy cheeks and noses, the snowflakes that stick to eyelashes, the warmth of a shared scarf on a cool night.

He took the cold and became winter.


End file.
